It's Good to be Bad
by Crosis Laurekal
Summary: A series of unrelated oneshots that focuses on the evil, the insane, and the inept of Jump City's villains.  See their triumphs, their tragedies, their hilarious hijinks and bumbling buffoonery.
1. Gremlin?

Well, this is essentially a little side project to my other main works. I'd noticed quite a few drabble collections from other authors, and enjoyed them immensely. While writing, and working, and pretty much doing anything I've had small ideas and brainstorms for stories. Most of them are too short to make into a full work, so I finally decided to give the whole drabble thing a try. What I hope will be unique about mine, like the summary says, is that this collection will focus exclusively on villains from the Teen Titans series. Any and all characters will be featured depending on what crazy notion gets into my head. Hope you like!

* * *

It was ten minutes to twelve on a Sunday night, a time known to all HIVE students as the point of no return. With homework and assignments due the following morning, they had but a few short minutes remaining to prepare for the long week ahead. Inside his room, one such student was furiously trying to complete tomorrow's essay when a series of knocks came from his door.

Muttering angrily, he leapt from his chair and stomped over as the knocks grew more persistent. Throwing the door open, he was unhappily surprised at his guest.

"You! You pasty faced, cheeto munching, acne infested, crud sniffing, candy assed nerd burglar! What are you doing here!"

Control Freak winced under the verbal barrage and looked hesitantly down at the other boy. Gizmo was staring up at him angrily, steam seeming to burst from his ears as his face reddened.

"Come on now, is that any way to treat a fellow student," he asked, trying to keep his tone friendly and calm Gizmo down.

"Fellow student, gimme a break! You were kicked out after two weeks because you installed Starcraft on the virtual training program!"

"Hey, that was a great idea! And how was I supposed to know that letting three freshmen get eaten by a Hydralisk was grounds for expulsion around here?"

Gizmo sighed. He had a ton of work to get back to, and the last thing he needed was this fatso ruining his night. "So why'd you even come back, scuzz brain?"

Control Freak's face lit up as he remembered his investigation. "Oh yea, I'd nearly forgotten. Let me just… find… my notes…" He dug around in his trench coat for several awkward moments before discovering a small notepad.

"Here we are! Alright Gizmo, we've known one another for a long time, and I've always wondered something about you. It seemed ridiculous, but the evidence has continued to mount up. Therefore, I am conducting a scientific experiment to uncover your true nature! Number one," he began, raising a finger with each point. "I've never once noticed you outside during the daytime. Number two, you always declined participation in late night pizza binges, specifically the ones taking place after twelve am. Third, you have not once bathed in your entire stay at the HIVE, which I might add is deeply noticeable."

Gizmo scowled. "What's your stupid point? The sun sucks, I don't want to eat pizza with you scum suckers, and baths are for stinking kids."

Control Freak took a breath and leaned down to stare the other boy in the face. "I'm going to ask you straight Gizmo. Are you a Mogwai?"

"AM I A WHAT?"

The older teen stood and flipped to another section of the notepad. "Sure, you know, like from the Gremlins movies? It all fits! Let's see, you have the short stature, the large bulgy eyes, the squeaky voice and bizarre way of talking, your mischievous and occasional hostile attitude, your room's always dark and you hate water, although you don't have the fur or the crazy ears, but then again you could be just some freakish bald version. And above all else, what about your name?"

"My name? My name's Gizmo because of all my cruddy tech devices you fat loser! I ain't no fuzzy rodent thing!"

Control Freak shoved his way into the room, slamming the door behind him. Before Gizmo could protest, he had been wrapped up in duct tape and sat down on his chair.

"We'll just see about that," he whispered in a diabolical tone. Despite the low light in the room, Gizmo could see him reaching into the folds of his coat and withdrawing an object. Control Freak aimed it right between his eyes, and Gizmo gulped fearfully.

"So how about this!" There was a loud click as a switch was thrown, and then a hellish, dazzling light exploded in front of his vision. The bald midget howled in pain and toppled back off his chair.

Control Freak laughed and waved the flashlight over his head. "Aha! Just as I thought," he cheered before lifting a voice recorder.

"October 15th, 11:56 pm. Field Test Alpha has met with successful results. As anticipated, the subject has displayed a powerful aversion to light. The application of severe luminescence brought about pain and fear, resulting in an almost reactionary attempt to escape."

"Of course it hurt you pit licking krum muncher! You blinded me and I fell off the kriffing chair!"

Control Freak ignored the rants and threats and continuing noting his progress. "Based on the success of the first experiment, my projected estimate on the chances of discovering a living Mogwai have increased to roughly 39 percent! Now moving on to Field Test Beta!"

Throwing the flashlight aside, he again reached into his seemingly bottomless coat and withdrew another object. Though his vision was stilled blurred by the glare of the light, it looked to Gizmo like a large container of liquid of some sort. His heart began to race as he considered what he was in store for this time. Was it some kind of acid, or maybe a chemical that Control Freak was going to inject into him? Now he wished he'd watched that stupid movie! What was a liquid supposed to do to…

He let out another shriek as a spray of ice cold water crashed into him. He sputtered and choked, trying to clear the liquid from his throat when another blast hit. Control Freak splashed him again and again, barely giving him time to recover between each assault.

"You cludge head! Are you trying to drown me or something?"

The taller boy stopped, whether it was because of his question or because he was out of water, Gizmo didn't know. "Field Test Beta has failed," he muttered into the recorder. "However, this could be the result of chromosomal manipulation or recessive gene traits, and does not disprove my theory. Now proceeding to the next test."

As the fat fiend once again searched through his coat, Gizmo could only wonder what was in store for him now? The tension built as a look of triumph crossed Control Freak's face, and with a flourish the instrument of doom was in his sight. Gizmo screamed as he realized what it was.

A bagel.

But this was no ordinary bagel!

This was one of the dreaded cafeteria bagels, most likely baked so long ago it had seen the rise and fall of the Soviet Union. It had laid in wait for thousands of lunch hours, its resentment building as each student passed it by. Now it looked rock hard, stale and solid enough to be used as a murder weapon. Sickly looking almonds were embedded across its pale surface, and the top was smeared with a putrid shell of anchovy paste.

"What are you going to do with that?"

"Elementary my dear Gizmo! As you are no doubt aware, Mogwai such as yourself undergo a startling change if they happen to consume any foodstuff after midnight. They cocoon themselves in gooey, dripping pods that bear a striking resemblance to Brussels Sprouts! At this time they change from cute, Furby like things into reptilian monstrosities that live to cause chaos and disorder, sowing death and destruction while still acting in extremely comical ways!"

As Control Freak continued to rant, Gizmo was stealthily using the tip of his protractor to saw through the duct tape holding him. Just a few more seconds until he was free…

Control Freak looked at his watch, his smile growing larger by the moment. "And what luck! Three minutes after midnight! Ok now, open wide!"

Gizmo shrank back against the wall, frantically cutting at the tape as Control Freak advanced. He kept his mouth firmly closed, his eyes watering as the culinary nightmare edged closer.

Outraged by his experiment's refusal to chow down, Control Freak reached out and pinched Gizmo's nostrils shut, preparing to shove the bagel down his throat when he gasped for air.

"Eat it! Eat the bagel!"

With a final swipe of his hand, the tape fell away, and Gizmo dashed between his tormenter's legs and made a lunge for the door. As he scrambled down the hallway, he could hear the pounding of moon boots closing in from behind.

"Bwahahaha! Fleeing from me only admits the truth of your identity! I'll have an army of gremlins at my disposal by noon tomorrow!"

As one pursued the other down the hallways of the HIVE, both happened to be thinking nearly the same thoughts.

'Sheesh, how can a kid with such little legs run so fast?'

'Damn, damn damn! How can such a fat guy move so quick?"

* * *

This was fun to write, and it was even funnier imagining the events as I first thought it up. I don't know, just the name Gizmo always makes me think of Gremlins, and you have to admit, the kid does have some similarities to them.


	2. Boot Camp

This one's dedicated to R. Lee Ermey, whose amazing performance as Hartman in _Full Metal Jacket _was the inspiration for this scene, as well as Immortus' dialogue.

**WARNING: **This chapter will contain a good amount of cursing, swearing, and foul language. If you have virgin ears or are uncomfortable with harsh language, do not read this chapter. Since it'll be the only chapter to contain any mature speaking, I didn't feel that the entire story required a shift in rating. **WARNING:**

I felt like General Immortus had some great potential for backstory and development in the show, but it was never once utilized. A guy who's been around for centuries and has participated in every major war? Come on, they could've done all sorts of things with him. Anyway, I felt like writing a story focusing on him, but all I could think about would be how he probably reacted when Private Hive first joined the Brotherhood in Season 5.

* * *

Private Hive was excited. No, scratch that. He was _ecstatic_. After all this time, he and the rest of the group had finally been invited to join the Brotherhood of Evil. It was the opportunity of a lifetime, and he intended to make the most of it. At the moment he was traversing the corridors of the group's base, meeting new and old faces at every turn. All he had to do now was find one of the Brotherhood's leaders and make a formal introduction. From there, he could only go up.

Rounding a corner, he noticed a pair of figures conversing at the end of the hall. He immediately recognized the black-haired woman in red. Madame Rouge had been the driving force for recruitment since the Brotherhood revealed itself. But who was the dumpy old man speaking to her? Hive was pretty sure he'd never seen the geezer before in his life.

He approached slowly, his instincts for self-preservation ruling that it wasn't the best idea to interrupt Madame Rouge in the middle of a conversation. It would probably be safer to walk up to them in plain sight, then wait for an opportune moment to speak.

So far his plan was working. He had only been standing to the side for a few minutes when Rouge's gaze snapped to him. He'd gotten the unpleasant feeling that she was looking at him like he was some kind of obnoxious child, or maybe a travelling salesman.

"Well?"

He started when she finally spoke. "Yes ma'am! Private Hive reporting for duty!" He quickly stood at attention and gave his best salute.

Her lips twisted into a frown, but before she could respond, the elderly man lifted his hand.

"I'll handle this one, if you don't mind." His voice was low and shaky, and his hand trembled as if he was hardly strong enough to keep it in the air. Hive couldn't help but give an indignant snort in the man's direction.

Rouge grinned as she gave a quick nod. "Go easy on him, Immortus" were her parting words as she disappeared from sight.

Private Hive was left standing in the corridor, trying to suppress his indignation at the way his plans had derailed. All he had wanted was to make a solid first impression, and what was the result? To be handed over to some geriatric weakling who still hadn't even turned around to face him. Hive sneered at the man's back as the minutes ticked by, suddenly hoping that if he waited around long enough, the man might just die of old age.

"So, Private Hive, you said your name was? Not a smart move, for a private to barge into a conversation between his superiors. I didn't make it all the way to general to have some snot-nosed punk speak down to me." The man's voice was now a strong, icy tone, and Hive got the feeling that he had seriously underestimated him.

"What? You, a general-"

**WHAM.**

He toppled to the floor, clutching his chin where Immortus' fist had struck. The old man towered over him, staring down with an expression so frightening that Hive imagined even Batman would've pissed his pants.

"Rule Number One, _private_," the word was spat out as though it was a piece of rotten food. "I don't know where the hell you came from, but you don't speak unless you're spoken to first, you got that? I don't fucking care if you have to follow me around saluting until your arm drops off. I will damn well let you know when I am ready to listen to you, and not a moment sooner!"

Hive pushed himself to his knees, his mind reeling from the pain on his chin and the sudden verbal onslaught. What had happened to the meek looking man from before?

"I was just-" A booted foot stomped down onto his back, sending him face-first to the floor. He bit back a scream of pain as the boot's sole twisted against his spine.

"Rule Number Two, you talk to me that way again and your fuckin' mouths gonna be wired shut for a year. I am the Alpha and the goddamned Omega, and when you talk to me, the first and last words out of that blowhole better be 'sir.' Do I make myself clear?"

"Sir, yes sir!"

"Good answer. There might just be hope for you yet. Long as you're down there son, let's see if you can stay on a roll. Give me fifty." The pressure of the boot seemed to lift slightly

"Sir?"

The sole dug into his back with renewed force. "Pushups, maggot! You do know what a pushup is, or did your momma force-feed you paint chips growing up!"

"Sir! Yes I do, sir!"

The pushups weren't especially difficult, although the boot digging into his back was a definite impediment. It was the General's silence that was unnerving him. After the thirtieth rep, he risked asking a question.

"Sir? Why are you making me do this, sir?"

"WHY!" The man's tone managed to sound delighted and outraged at the same time. "I'm doing this to whip you into shape, boy! I been watching all of you recruits coming and going these last few weeks, buncha lazy, coddled momma's boys the lotta ya! Think you're some kind of big shot villain by robbing an ATM or mugging a girl scout! Think that having a few superpowers makes up for a complete lack of discipline or training. Horseshit! The crap I scrape off my shoes is worth more than all of you put together! But don't you worry, I plan to fix that."

"But sir," Hive pleaded. "We're on the same side, why are you being so violent, sir?"

"Ho-LY shit, you are a whiner! You think I'm the type to go easy on my troops? Let me tell you something, kid. I had Bernard Montgomery pull shit patrol for two months straight! I made Robert E. Lee dig an entire latrine bare-ass naked in January! And look what happened to them! They went from no-name privates to two of the most famous soldiers in history! So don't you be questioning my methods, cause I've been making pukes like you into legends before you were a stain in your momma's sheets!"

The pressure on his back was becoming unbearable. Hive sank to the ground, panting for air. He was beginning to regret ever coming here. If this was what life with the Brotherhood would be like, then he should've stuck to robbing shopping malls.

He felt the man's weight shift as he leaned down and whispered into his ear. "Boy, if you don't finish those pushups right now, this boot's going into your ribs next."

He tried, honest and truly. He put every ounce of his remaining energy into pushing himself up from the floor, but it wasn't enough. He felt his body collapse in exhaustion, felt the sudden relief as the boot's weight lifted from his back, and the sudden agony as it collided with his ribcage. Then, all went dark.

He awoke to the sound of voices all around him. Opening his eyes, he was relieved to see Mammoth's concerned face peering down at him.

"Hey guys, he's awake!" Hive blinked and looked around the room. He was in some kind of bunkhouse, surrounded by all the other recruits that had recently joined the Brotherhood. He couldn't help but give a sigh of relief. He was safe. He was among friends. He was far, far away from that sadistic dwarf in the military regalia.

"We found you unconscious in the hallway. Looked like someone beat the tar out of you," Mammoth explained. "What the heck happened?"

Hive didn't get a chance to respond as the door to the bunkhouse swung open with a crash. An elderly man in combat fatigues strode into the room, a Model 37 Trench Gun in his hands. Swinging the barrel towards the ceiling, he fired. The villains dove to the floor, hands covering their ears as the shotgun blast echoed deafeningly off the walls.

"Good morning, maggots," the man yelled out. "I am General Immortus, and I've been tasked with welcoming you to the Brotherhood of Evil! I have also been assigned the thankless job of turning you worthless shits into passable villains! As my good friend Private Hive can tell you, I take my job very seriously, and I see that I have my work cut out for me."

All eyes turned to Hive, filled with fear and realization. Immortus grinned and pumped the shotgun. "Let's get to work."

Private Hive decided then and there that Jinx had made the right choice when she left to help the Titans.


	3. Career Change

Another flash of inspiration or insanity, depending on how you want to look at it. To be honest, I had pretty mixed feelings about this one. On the one hand, I felt like making it a oneshot would be making it too short, too rushed. At the same time, looking at the finished chapter, I think that making it longer or a multi-chapter vignette would do more harm than good. Anyway, hope you enjoy.

* * *

Today was a good day, in every sense of the word. A sunny July afternoon, the weather was warm without a cloud in the sky. The Teen Titans were vacationing in Japan, not expected to return for at least a month. Best of all, it was the day Billy Numerous was released from prison.

The parolee was all but skipping down the corridor as the guard station grew near. He couldn't wait another minute to get out of here! No more bars, no more disgusting jail food, and no more Bubba 'The Love Sponge.' Billy shuddered at that particular memory as he passed Cell Block D. Luckily, his hometown acquaintance was nowhere to be seen.

Arriving at the checkout office, Billy prepared for the routine that had by now become second nature to all of Jump City's villains. Sign out, retrieve your belongings, listen to a reiteration of your parole requirements, lie through your teeth, and take your leave. Thank God the mayor was an idealistic dope; half a year of good behavior and he all but pardoned you wholesale!

He was halfway down the block when a familiar tickling sensation rose up from the back of his mind. He grinned to himself as the feeling began to worsen; looked like one of his brothers was itching to come out. Now that he was out of the prison, his powers were no longer being inhibited.

It took only a moment's concentration, and then there was a sudden feeling of weight at his shoulders as a copy of himself began to split from his back. The second Billy threw back his head and took a long, deep breath before turning back to the original.

"Well howdy there Billy! Mighty good seeing you again."

"Same to you, Billy. Hope you weren't gettin' too antsy in there."

"Naw, weren't too bad, but you did keep us stuck in there a mighty long time!"

The original Billy shrugged. "Well, nothin' I could do with m'powers turned off 'n all that. 'Sides, yer out now ain'cha?"

"Sure am, and I'd like to keep it that way for awhile."

Billy grinned and slung an arm around his brother's shoulder. "Well then, it's yer lucky day, son! We got 'bout a month or so until them Titans come on back, so y'all are gonna have plenty a' time to run wild."

Billy looked back at him with a smirk. "Actually, I think I might have a better idea."

* * *

The inside of Billy's apartment was crowded beyond all conceivable limits. The city fire code had been exceeded in the first two seconds after the villain had stepped in the door, and now there were several hundred Billy's fighting for elbow room in the tiny space.

Billy attempted to fight his way through the sea of clones as he made his way into the kitchen. It wasn't an easy task. With every step, his stomach was being elbowed, his shin was kicked, and his feet were stomped. He was halfway tempted to just let them run loose so he could get a moment's rest, but the hopeful stare of his first copy kept him moving. He just hoped this was worth it.

Climbing onto the table, he cleared his throat and tried to get the mob's attention.

"Got any fours, Billy?"

"Alright, Billy, check out this trick Ol' Mumbo taught me."

"Dammit, Billy! Warn us the next time ya start cookin' Jambalaya!"

"-spent my money, up right down to my last diiiiiiime, woh ho ho…. in Baton Rouge!"

"**BILLIES!**"

The myriad conversations halted as hundreds of gazes turned to their leader.

"Alright now, I reckon y'all are wantin' to get the blood pumpin' and whatnot after bein' stuck in me all that time. Thing is, I been approached earlier today 'bout a little change of plans." The other Billies were listening intently at this point. A change of plans? No more mischief and mayhem until the Titans sent their collective butts back into a jail cell?

"Number three seventy-seven here came up with a plan, one where we ain't goin' back to jail no more," whoops and cheers began to spring up from the crowd. "And best of all, this plan's gonna make us the richest boys in the whole dang city! Can I get a yeehaw?"

The entire apartment shook as each and every Billy Numerous leapt to his feet

"YEEEEEHAW!"

* * *

"But I don't see why we couldn't at least unpack before leaving again," Robin protested. The masked boy was currently squished between Beast Boy and Starfire in the back of the T-Car as the Titans drove into the city. After landing, he had planned to quickly unload the ship and begin drawing up plans for their nightly patrol, only to be grabbed by the arms and shoved into the waiting car. Despite his arguments, it seemed that the rest of the team was more enthusiastic about going for pizza than returning to their normal duties.

"Now Robin, there will be time for us to prepare, but it has been a long flight, and we are particularly famished." It sounded like Starfire was scolding him, but with her perky tone of voice, it was impossible to tell.

"We could have just had it delivered! Just think of all the villainous acts that could be brewing while we're wasting our time with this! It's been a month since we left! Our enemies could be lying in wait for us around every corner! We have to be ready!"

Beast Boy leaned up in his seat and tapped Raven's shoulder. "Could you turn on the radio, please? He's driving me nuts!" She gave him a curt nod and reached over to press the button.

"WELL HOWDY THERE, JUMP CITY," An enthusiastic and strangely familiar voice blared from the speakers. Y'ALL ARE LISTENING TO 95.5, KMBR! WE'LL BE TAKIN' YER REQUESTS HERE SHORTLY, BUT FIRST OFF HERE'S A LOOK AT THE WEATHER FOR TONIGHT!"

"That voice, it's Billy Numerous!" Robin attempted to lunge out of his seat, only to become hopelessly tangled as the seatbelt caught onto his cape.

"He must have taken over the radio station as part of some evil plot! He might be sending coded messages to give instructions to his doubles! Cyborg, turn the car around! Raven, Starfire, start heading for the broadcast tower! Beast Boy, get me out of this seatbelt!"

Unfortunately, none of the others seemed to share his sense of urgency, and the remainder of the drive was spent in silence, broken only by Robin's frantic struggles to extricate himself from the insidious seatbelt.

* * *

"But I don't see why we couldn't check out the station just to be sure," Robin complained as he paced around the table. It had taken the better half of an hour just to convince the masked boy that not everyone with that particular accent was a self-replicating villain.

"I'm telling you, something strange is going on here, and I'm sure that he's responsible. Mark my words, Titans, he's going to get the drop on us any second now…"

The sound of footsteps stopping at their table turned the group's attention to the arrival of their waiter. A very familiar waiter.

"Afternoon kids! What can I get for you tod-"

"BILLY NUMEROUS," Robin screamed as he launched himself over the table and sent Billy crashing to the floor.

It was over in seconds; Robin pinning Billy to the ground with his forearm as the other man frantically tried to break away.

"So I was right all along," Robin announced in triumph. "Using the radio station as a decoy to focus our attention elsewhere while you ambushed us over lunch! So what's the scheme, Billy? Going to poison our food? Tranquilize us before a citywide robbing spree? Some sort of laxative prank? Confess!"

The Boy Wonder pulled his arm away, anticipating a flood of guilty admissions from his subdued opponent.

"HELP! HELP! I'M BEIN' ASSAULTED!"

Well, that was certainly not what Robin expected to hear. Startled and momentarily self-conscious of his situation, he leapt away from Billy and attempted to look as innocent as possible. At least until he remembered who he was dealing with.

"Now wait just a second here," he yelled. "Don't think you can weasel your way out of this by acting like a victim. We all know you're a criminal, and this little of charade of yours isn't going to fool me!"

Wielding his bo staff, he took a menacing step forwards. "Now, how about we get back to business?"

"Just what in the heck is goin' on out here," another voice demanded from inside the building. Robin turned to see another Billy approaching, this one clad in a white apron and brandishing a heavy wooden rolling pin.

The first Billy scrambled to his feet, pointing an accusing finger at the now bewildered Robin. "I'll tell ya what's goin' on, Billy sir! I was comin' to take these kids' order, right? Then outta nowhere this ornery polecat jumps me! Starts accusin' me of trying to poison 'em and such!"

Chef Billy turned his attention to Robin. "That true, boy? You roughin' up my employees, causin' a scene?"

"What? No… I… but… what is going on here?" Robin had no idea what was happening, only that it was giving him a headache.

"What's goin' on is that I'm tryin' to run a good, honest business here. Now you can either set yerself down an' behave, or you can take a walk." With a disgusted shake of his head, Billy disappeared back into the pizza parlor, the waiter Billy following close behind.

Robin had never been so confused. His attempts to foil… whatever it was that Billy was planning had failed miserably, and he somehow been painted as the bad guy! There was something truly sinister in the works, he decided. A scheme so elaborate, so sublime, that it would take all of his cunning and intelligence to unravel it.

Retracting his staff, he crouched down beside his friends. "Listen up team," he whispered, lest Billy overhear. "I want you to continue monitoring this area. Don't let Billy out of your sight! I'm going to do a quick search of the city and see if this is some distraction to keep our attention off the real caper!"

Without giving the others a chance to respond, he had leapt onto a nearby rooftop and sprinted off towards downtown.

* * *

It was just as Robin feared; the entire city was crawling with Billies. It seemed that every direction he looked, there was another Billy up to some nefarious act! The only problem was that he couldn't figure out exactly what they were up to: Billy driving a cab. Billy selling produce. Billy fixing a water line. Billy working in an office! BILLY STOCKING GROCERIES!

He wanted to rip out his hair in frustration. What could it mean? Each of these seemingly innocent activities had to be part of a larger plot. He had to discover the connection, but it seemed that Billy was far more intelligent than they had ever imagined. His previously minor headache was rapidly becoming a full-on migraine.

The loud ringing of an alarm caught Robin's attention, and he raced towards the disturbance. He followed the sound to a nearby bank, where smoke was pouring from the windows and broken glass littered the sidewalk. He was just about to call the Titans when Billy Numerous dashed out of the entrance, a large sack of money in his hands. He had barely taken three steps before a multicolored blur slammed into his side, knocking the thief into the building's side.

"I'VE GOT YOU NOW BILLY," Robin cackled. "Pretty clever, I have to admit! But you made the fatal mistake of even attempting to outmatch me in smarts!" He grabbed Billy by the collar of shirt and began shaking him back and forth. "Hahaha, thought you could cross wits with the one and only Robin, did you? Why, you fool, you! HAHAHAHA!"

His laughing was becoming hysterical now, and he barely even noticed the approaching police siren until a hand tapped him on the shoulder. Suddenly aware of this new arrival, Robin dropped Billy to the sidewalk and tried to calm regain his usual stoic attitude.

"Glad you've arrived officer, just in time to take this _petty _thief into custody." He turned around with a grin, only to have his smile vanish, his breath catch and his eyes widen as the officer removed his sunglasses.

"Well, looky here! Didn' know the Titans were back already! Shore am glad y'all caught this rascal!"

Stepping past the now dazed hero, officer Billy reached down and handcuffed his brother. "You got anythin' to say for yerself, Billy?"

"It weren't my fault, Billy! I gots me a social disease! Society's done played me a terrible trick, and um, deep down inside of me I'm sick?"

"Aww, no. You ain't foolin' me with that old song an' dance excuse again! Come on, into the car wit'cha."

Robin leapt into Billy's path, his staff at the ready and a mad gleam in his eyes. "SO! Impersonating a police officer to help the perpetrator make his getaway! You're not going to fool me that easily, now get your hands in the air!"

He expected an attack, or at least an exclamation of disbelief that he had foiled their plans. What he was not expecting was another stern talking-to. Sadly, that was just what he got, with an ominous warning about the punishment for threatening and assaulting an officer of the law. It had taken several viewings of officer Billy's badge and a quick phone call to police headquarters before Robin was forced to concede that once again, he had leapt to conclusions.

"I just don't understand it," he ranted to Billy as they escorted thief Billy into the station. "Why are you helping me arrest one of your clones? What are the rest of you doing all over the city? What kind of crazy plot is this?"

Billy cast him a pitying look before motioning for his prisoner to halt. "This might come as a bit of a shock to ya, but Billy Numerous is turnin' over a new leaf."

"New leaf," Robin said incredulously.

"Yessir. You see, we done had us a little powwow and figured that crime wasn't goin' too well. Then number three hundred an' seventy-seven came up with a plan where we'd all go'n get regular jobs. With all of us workin' and whatnot, we'd make a helluva lot more cash than we would jus' robbing banks and stuff.

"But, with your record…"

Billy laughed. "Funny thing, that. Turns out only Billy number one has a criminal record, well, him and number four oh three, now," he said with a glare at the handcuffed Billy. "So's the rest of us didn't have no problems at all gettin' hired. I reckon it's hard to come to terms with, but you'll see in time. We ain't no more threat to the city." Giving Robin a farewell wave, he and criminal Billy headed into the station, leaving the Boy Wonder staring at the door in shock.

This day had gone from surreal to batshit insane. For one blissful moment he had believed that the mystery had been solved, that Billy's mad scheme had been foiled. Now, it seemed that something even more bizarre had happened. Aside from one black sheep, the hundreds of Billy Numerouses were now gainfully employed citizens of Jump City. This just didn't seem possible! It was unheard of, it was unreal!

Robin's migraine was gaining strength, and he knew that if he was going to have any chance of saving himself from a complete emotional breakdown, he had to get out of here. Far away from Billy Numerous.

He had just turned to leave when he was blinded by the flash of a camera, followed by a microphone shoved into his face.

"Alright folks, this is JCQX news, reportin' live from Jump City police headquarters, where Robin of the Teen Titans has jus' completed his first arrest since returnin' from abroad!"

As his vision returned, Robin found himself standing face to face with a news crew, composed of two Billies. His hands fell limply to his side, and somewhere inside his own head, he thought he heard a fuse blowing.

"Mister Robin? Any comments for the list'ners at home?"

"AAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUGGGGGGHHHHHH!"

* * *

Was fun writing Robin driving himself crazy looking for some hidden meaning that didn't exist, and you don't see too many Billy Numerous stories, so I figured I'd run with it. Let me know what you think, and see you next time.

Cro


End file.
